


So, You Met Tchaikovsky?

by MamanAbeille



Series: Vibe Check [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Lukanette, hockey!luka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23758285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamanAbeille/pseuds/MamanAbeille
Summary: Spinoff of the hockey fic that I have been working on.   Luka and Marinette have grown up together, been dating for six years, yet somehow this is the first time she's seen her man on the ice and she has big feelings about it.
Relationships: Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: Vibe Check [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711528
Comments: 22
Kudos: 99





	So, You Met Tchaikovsky?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quickspinner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quickspinner/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Quick!

Marinette isn’t exactly sure what comes over her the first time she sees Luka on the ice. She really can’t explain it. She thought she would be terrified. She had watched the sport before, and knew it was high contact and could lead to plenty of injuries. Which is why she assumed she’d be flinching through the whole game, covering her eyes, and needing recaps from Tikki who was hidden in her scarf. What she did  _ not  _ expect was the deep, nearly primal scream that seems to tear itself from her vocal chords. “TAKE HIM DOWN, LUKA!” 

Rose and Juleka, who are seated next to her, both jump. Rose even ends up tossing some popcorn in the air at the reaction. Luka slams another player against the glass right in front of them, and Juleka groans at the sight. Marinate knows that Juleka is supportive of Luka, but doesn’t really like to see him so aggressive. She honestly expected to feel the same way. However, the pure strength and power he displays as he holds his opponent there for a few seconds, ramming him further into the glass, gets her a little hot and bothered. She can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have him pin  _ her  _ up against something with that much conviction. She knew he was strong. She’s seen him lug musical equipment several times a week for years. She’s seen how effortlessly he can swoop her up and fling her over his shoulder. Hell, she’s seen him naked more times that she can count and seen those muscles up close and  _ very  _ personal. Still, there’s something different about seeing him like  _ that. _ There’s a fierceness and aggression that she’s never seen on him before…  _ and she likes it.  _

He catches her eyes for half a second, and she’s floored. It’s been years since she’s been absolutely speechless by the presence of him, but growing up together and dating for years does tend to have that effect. The adrenalin races through her blood, and she can’t help but get completely swept up in the vibe of the crowd. It’s a rush that she’s never felt before, not even in the midst of a high stakes akuma attack. When she hears the final buzzer go off and sees that The Vipers are two points ahead, she screams loudly enough that it catches his attention on the ice. The team becomes a massive huddle of bodies, and sticks, and buddies slapping each other’s helmets through cheers and hollers. 

Luka finds her in the crowd once the huddle disperses and what all make their way off the ice. She leaps into his arms, causing him to stumble backwards a little in his skates. She captures his lips in a passionate victory kiss, and soaks in the feeling of his arms snaking around her to support her weight. “Babe,” she softly moans in his ear, legs wrapped around his waist. “ _ Why  _ have you never let me come to a game before now?” She knows the real reason. He’s explained it to her several times over the years. He hates the thought of the people in his life seeing him behaving in any sort of aggressive way. He prides himself on his gentle nature, and his ability to handle any situation with words and reason versus violence. A belief system that was only strengthened after being akumatized into Silencer. 

He hears the guys whoop and whistle out catcalls behind him, and feels a slap on his shoulder that he can only assume is Remy. “You’re a little distracting,” he tells her instead, knowing it’s more of a rhetorical question. “Hard to focus on the ice when I know you’re sitting in the bleachers looking like that,” he nods down at her puffy coat and gloves. He places a soft kiss on the tip of her nose, and grins at the blush that spreads across her face. 

“Really? This is what does it for you?” she chuckles. She kisses him quickly one more time, before jumping down from his arms, but staying tucked into his side. 

“Oh, yeah. You look adorable,” he laughs just as Juleka and Rose make their way over hand in hand. 

“Luka, you did so great!” Rose squeals, giving him a congratulatory peck on the cheek. 

Juleka nods at her fiancee’s words, and hugs her brother, and Marinette by extension. “You and Nette need a room?” she teases. Marinette flushes an even deeper red and buries her face into Luka’s chest, muttering a soft ‘sorry’. Juleka shrugs and grabs her bag. “Ma said you’re welcome to dinner tonight.” 

“Just tell Ma we won, and we’ll be there this weekend for family dinner.” Marinette looks up at him curiously, as the other two girls take their leave. “The team has a tradition of grabbing pizza together after a win. We don’t have to go if you’d rather do something just the two of us. The guys will understand.” 

“No.” She shakes her head and looks up at him for a moment, biting her lip. “Do you think that they’d mind if we were a little late though?” 

Luka’s cheeks flush a light pink as he grins down at her. “We’d probably be okay to be a little late. What did you have in mind?” She can see the playful hike of his eyebrows and laughs at him, “Not that! I was kind of hoping you could show me how. To play, I mean.” 

The rest of the team are saying their goodbyes to friends and family, gathering their things, and slowly making their way out one or two at time. “You and your lady coming, Tchaikovsky?” Remy shouts across the rink. Marinette raises her eyebrows at him in question, but he shakes his head as if to say he’ll explain later. 

“Meet you there in a bit,” Luka hollers back before guiding her over to the bleachers and giving her his full attention. “You’ll need skates. Are you and Jules still the same size?” Marinette nods. “Perfect,” Luka continues. “She and I share a locker. I’m sure she won’t mind if you use hers. I’ll go grab those and an extra stick. Then I can show you a few things. You hide Tikki. I’d offer her my bag, but it doesn’t smell great.” He kisses her quickly and disappears behind a break in the bleachers where she assumes the locker room and storage areas are. He’s only gone for a few moments, and she uses the time to take off her jacket and scarf, making a safe little nest for her kwami, and pulls her hat down further over her ears. She’s straightening her hoodie, a Vipers one stolen one night after staying over at Luka’s, when he reappears, a pair of skates, a stick, and a bucket of pucks in tow. 

Marinette looks at the stick that Luka hands her, specifically the tape wrapped around the top, ‘JR’ scribbled out in quick, dark lettering. She glares up at him. “Is this a kids’ stick?” 

Luka lets out a deep laugh, and pulls her into a one armed hug. “Well, you’re short,” he places a kiss on the top of her head, before leading her out onto the ice, ignoring her mock pouting. He sets up a line of pucks between the two face off circles, and skates a little to the side. “Alright, Nette, get the puck in the goal.” 

Marinette huffs at him, expecting some sort of guidenence, but squares off in front of one of the pucks nevertheless. She grips the hockey stick with both hands about three quarters of the way down, rears the stick back and whips it forward with as much force as she can… and proceeds to hit the ice before any contact is made with the puck. 

Luka tires to stifle the laughter, but Marinette hears and turns to glare at him. “It’s not golf,” he informs her with a straight face. He skates over to her and wraps his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Alright, I’ll help.” He places a kiss on her neck that catches her off guard and makes her gasp. He takes a couple of steps back and adjusts her footing with carefully positioned hands on her hips. “Regrip your stick. This time, keep one hand towards the top, then the other should be closer to halfway down the shaft- the stick. See what hand feels better on top.” He waits for her to feel around for a moment and get a comfortable hold on the stick before continuing. “When you shoot, shift your weight from your back foot to your front foot. Keep the puck in the middle to back of the blade of the stick. Pull back and release. It’s not a big long sweeping swing like golf or tennis. It’s more of a quick controlled pull and then flick of your wrist. Does that make sense?” Luka shifts his hands over hers and mimics the motion a few times for her.

Marinette gives a couple quick nods, and he steps back to let her try. She follows his instructions and shoots the puck in front of her forward. It lands in the goal and she beams, looking over her shoulder from Luka then back to the goal in disbelief. “I did it!” she squeals, bouncing up onto her toes excitedly and immediately flailing forward. She throws her hands out just before she collides face first with the ice. 

“No toe pick,” he reminds her, offering a hand to help her up. “You’ve worn figure skates in the past. The blades of hockey skates are rounded off on both sides. No points.” 

“Right.” She picks the stick off the ice and approaches the second puck, doing the same as before. It goes right past the edge of the goal but not in. She looks to Luka, who advises, “Try keeping your feet on either side of the puck. See if that helps.” She goes to the next puck and adjusts her footing. She shoots. The puck bounces off the frame and into the net. Luka cheers in an exaggerated sportscaster voice . “And Nettie’s got it in the net!” 

Marinette laughs, and shoots a puck at him, which he easily side steps. “You are such a dork!”

“And you love me.” He leans down to kiss her and she meets him halfway, slipping her hands around his neck as his fall to the small of her back. “I really, really do.” He captures her lips again, pulling her even closer still, adding a new heat that catches her breath in her throat. He nips at her bottom lip, begging for more, which she gladly gives. The need for air becomes increasingly essential, and they reluctantly pull away. He trails several soft little kisses across her cheeks. She’s shocked by the intensity in his eyes when she finally opens her own. “What?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper, too afraid to shatter the moment. He continues to gaze down at her. “I’m just falling in love with you all over again right now.” 

“Luka,” she whimpers, joyful warmth flooding her body. She buries her face in his chest to hide the tears stinging her eyes. He wraps his arms around her, and leans his chin on the top of her head, letting out a content sigh that seems to spread to her as well. Neither are sure how long they linger there in that moment, but at some point the lights flick on and off a couple of times. They both look up at the lights and chuckle a little as they pull away. 

“That will be George,” Luka explains. “He still needs to bring the zamboni out.” “We should probably be getting back to the team anwayway,” Marinette adds. They gather up the pucks and make their way back to the bleachers. They make quick work of switching out of their skates to street shoes and head out. 

By the time they get to the little pizzeria, they are really only a half hour behind the others. The team has pulled together several of the tables, and there are empty breadstick baskets scattered here and there between them, all empty save for a couple of crumbs and half on one that looks like it had fallen on the ground. There’s a selection of pizzas as well, but by the looks of everyone’s plates, it looks they had just come out. 

“Ayye, Krovsky!” Sal, the goalie, whoops. He’s the first one to spot them, and waves them over as if the needed any help finding the rowdy group. “What took you two so long?” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, Luka swatting the back of his teammate’s head as they squeeze themselves in next to the captain. 

“He was teaching me how to play hockey,” Marinette informs him, taking a plate with a couple slices of veggie pizza that Luka offers her. 

“Ice hockey or tonsil hockey?” Remy laughs. Though Marinette has met the rest of the team several times at team parties in the apartment, she’s the most comfortable with Remy. She knows that it’s probably because he’s Luka’s roommate and best friend, but even the first time she’d met him, it was as if she’d grown up with him as well. 

“Rembrandt,” she scolds playfully. “Do you really think I could have dated  _ that _ ,” she nods to Luka who has just taken a bite of his slice and freezes at her words, “ for the last six years and  _ not  _ know how to play tonsil hockey?” The little cafe booms with laughter and taunting quips. Luka is redder than she thinks she’s ever seen him in his life. 

“Tchaikovsky’s got himself a little spitfire,” center Louis laughs.    
“Okay, someone please explain to me how he became Tchaikovsky,” Marinette begs. 

“You’ve heard 1812 Overture, right?” Louis asks her. She stares at him blankly until Luka starts humming it next to her, patting out the rhythm on her leg. She nods once she recognizes it. “He’s basically 1812. He starts out all calm and soft and smooth, but when he hits, he hits  _ hard,  _ like a fucking cannon.”

Marinette can’t really object with that logic. When she thinks about it, it actually fits him pretty perfectly. 

“So, you finally met Tchaikovsky, what do you think?” Remy asks her.

Marinette thinks for a minute, glancing around at the rest of the team, her gaze settling on the man in question. “I think I fell in love with him all over again today,” she smirks, leaning over to kiss him. 

“FINE!” the team seems to all shout at once, which then turns to more laughter and teasing that lasts the rest of the night.

  
  



End file.
